Tell Me What You Want
by PrairieLily
Summary: There's a room in the Lestrade cottage that Greg and Eurus enjoy quite a lot. Eurstrade universe, but isn't really connected to any other Eurstrade universe stories otherwise. Rated T for suggestiveness, but it's really not bad at all... oneshot, no copyright infringement intended!


Eurus Lestrade approached her husband slowly and deliberately, her gait closely resembling that of a leisurely seductive Latin dance, a glint of wanting mischief in her deep blue eyes. Greg gazed down at her as she reached him, a crooked grin forming and a warmth of anticipation beginning to grow in his belly. He was pretty sure he knew what she wanted… it was the same thing she always wanted in this room… the trick would be to play a little hard to get… while he tried to decide if he'd be able to be able to deliver exactly what it was she wanted without too much awkwardness from lack of skill, confidence, or both.

Aye, there was the rub. When the spirit was willing but the experience was weak.

"I want you to take the lead this time," she said, almost seductively. "I know you can do it, you are far more skilled than you give yourself credit for, darling." She smiled up at him, knowing what a marshmallow he'd turn into if she looked at him just so, and reached up to touch him behind his ear, just there on that spot, her fingers brushing through his short silver hair to reach it.

Greg held her gaze, smiling, thinking, considering – because he'd been absolutely right. And oh my… there was that spot. His breath caught for just a moment. Well there it was decided – good, bad, or ugly, he was going to have to fumble his way through this.

"That's not something I do quite often enough, love. I'm not sure I could perform to your satisfaction. I know how discerning you are…"

"Oh, I wouldn't worry, Gregory. You're used to following my lead, picking up my rhythm. You must admit we make gorgeous music together. This time I want _you_ to set the pace, establish the rhythm," she said, standing on her tiptoes to reach his face with hers and reaching down to take his hand, bringing it up between their shoulders as if to dance, fingers interlaced. With the hand still cradling the back of his head, she drew him down towards her and into a kiss. As a low husky rumble escaped his throat, and what little of his resistance was left flew out through the doorway, he knew he was utterly done for – and so did Eurus.

Her pulse quickened in satisfaction and anticipation of the beauty she knew they were about to experience together. The low, impossibly seductive sound that was his vocal equivalent of pure sex to her ears, and that had just escaped his throat nearly made her reflexively squeeze his hand a bit too hard. She stopped herself just in time – he was going to be needing those fingers to be functional if he was going to be able to give her what she wanted.

"Tell me what you want then love," he murmured, as her breath, still tasting of the sweet hot cocoa they had indulged in before heading into the music room, made his toes curl.

"Joy," she said simply, breaking the kiss and gazing up into his warm brown eyes.

Greg grinned. "Bach again, eh? You sly girl," he said softly. "I should have known you'd choose old Johann Sebastian, he seems to be your favourite." He leaned down, kissing her with deep finality one final time, lingering a few moments longer than was probably strictly necessary, before turning away and strolling casually to the corner to fetch his guitar from the stand.

Smiling to herself with immense satisfaction, Eurus turned and strolled to her chair, sitting down and placing her cello into position between her knees. She watched as Greg sat down across from her himself, taking just a moment to set up the music stand. He knew this piece by heart - but only when he was accompanying Eurus, not leading her.

Sitting himself down, he positioned the classical guitar Sherlock and Molly had given to him for an anniversary gift on his leg, and sliding his hand up the neck, arranged his fingers. Moving his other hand down towards the strings, he allowed them to hover in position as Eurus lifted her bow, ready for his cue to begin. He took a deep breath, letting his focus take hold. Eurus smiled at him encouragingly. "You can do this darling. It's going to be absolutely _beautiful,_ mark my words." He nodded at her, a calm serenity taking over his face and his spirit.

Eurus closed her eyes and listened as Greg began to play the simple but beautiful opening notes of "Jesu, Joy of Man's Desiring", waiting for the moment she was to join in with her cello. So absorbed in his performance was she that she nearly missed her cue to begin, but she did manage to catch it just in time.

As the beautiful simplicity of their duet washed over the room and down the hallway, they failed to hear the front door opening, and two familiar figures enter. Sherlock and John paused a moment while they kicked their shoes off, listening to the notes drifting down the hallway towards them.

"That's different for them," John commented, his eyebrow raising in curiosity as his foot nudged his shoes towards the boot tray. "Bach, isn't it? They've played this before but this time the guitar is leading."

Sherlock cocked his head, listening for a few moments. "Yes, it is. Greg has the lead. Greg never has the lead. But that's definitely him playing, I'd recognize his style anywhere."

John nodded in agreement. "Besides," he observed, "last I checked, Eurus doesn't play the guitar, and Greg doesn't play the cello. Curiouser and curiouser," he commented, gesturing for Sherlock to follow him as they padded softly in their sockfeet down the hallway.

They hovered in the doorway a moment while the rich notes carried through to them, glancing at each other. Sherlock loved a good duet, and this was definitely a good one. Greg had come a long way since picking up his guitar again (so they had discovered, to their surprise), and playing with Eurus. He had seemed a little bit rusty to begin with, and classical music hadn't been his strong suit anyway, he had told them, but as they hadn't even known he played in the first place, they had no way of knowing if he was out of practice, or if his busy career as a Scotland Yard detective simply hadn't afforded him enough spare time to really build his skills up. Either way, there was a noticeable improvement in both his technique and his confidence in the past several months.

John grinned, taking in the performance thoroughly. This was near perfection, right here. He had gotten accustomed enough to the classic composers in his many years of living with Sherlock and his sometimes incessant violin that he had grown to develop a true appreciation for the beauty of the stringed instruments. He leaned up against the door jamb of the music room, closing his eyes and taking in the notes as they drew to a close.

"Well done," Sherlock said with honest appreciation. "But would you mind trying that just one more time? With one extra player?"

Eurus and Greg glanced at each other, eyes alight with satisfaction, before they turned to look at Sherlock and John.

"By all means, brother, my violin is over there on the stand," Eurus said, laughing softly.

Greg flexed his fingers and shifted in his chair, briefly stretching his legs out to uncramp the muscles. "I think I'm loosened up now," he said, grinning at Sherlock. He could play alone with Eurus any time, but having Sherlock join in was a treat that didn't happen quite often enough. For as skilled as his wife was, even she couldn't play her cello and her violin at the same time. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, letting his muscles completely relax and his spirit be calmed.

Sherlock smiled happily to himself, a sparkle reaching his gold flecked eyes. He had always loved playing with Eurus, and with Greg in the mix now too, it seemed to complete their performances in ways that he hadn't quite expected, and brought them together as family at the same time. This was going to be positively lovely.

Eurus smiled over at her husband, more than pleased with the progress he'd made. He was a quick study, and although she didn't play the guitar herself, she recognized good playing from bad playing. Most of all though, she loved having someone there who loved her enough to not only put up with both her violin and her cello at all hours, but was willing to join her faithfully and lovingly, the way Sherlock had years ago at Sherrinford. Greg's guitar vs Sherlock's violin also added a spark of variety, keeping things from becoming boring.

John surveyed the room and walked over to retrieve the extra chair. He was going to enjoy this – three of his dearest friends in the world and music he had grown to appreciate for its soul-soothing properties, something that he had come to appreciate more than Sherlock might ever realize during those times when his mind took him a little too far back to the war. For John, hearing his dearest friends play was music therapy, and this time, it would be an audience of one, an exclusive symphony concert just for him.

Each of them, in their own way, thought the same thing… that no matter what the rest of the day had in store for them, nothing else that happened could even come close to topping this.


End file.
